Molly Hooper, Companion
by Agent Frostbite
Summary: Molly is getting a little tired of her routine, but when she stumbles upon a strange alley, an eccentric lonely traveller, and a shapeshifting thief, her normal routine gets blown straight out the window.


Another boring day at St. Barts went by as Molly Hooper dragged herself through the slow week. Since her fiance, Tom, had broken off the engagement - because 'all she ever talked about was dead bodies and Glee and Sherlock,' as his accuation went - she'd had nothing to do after work. Nothing to look foward to, save Sherlock's semi-often and unpredictable visits. She sighed as she closed her locker after retrieving her purse and coat.

She walked out into the cold Febuary air. The north wind cut through her and she pulled the coat closer as she made her way back home. She had just finished buttoning up her coat when she heard a thud down the alley to her left. She stopped and looked toward the source of the noise.

After seeing nothing, she had a choice to make. She could just keep walking back home or she could go look. Pulling out her flashlight, she decided one quick peek wouldn't hurt. She slowly walked down the alley, shining her flashlight on the graffitied walls. Another clang was followed by heavy footsteps headed her way. She touched her stun gun - Lord knows when she started carrying it - out and got ready to face whomever was coming her way.

The silhouette of some kind of large monster covered in what appeared to be suckers quickly shrunk down to the size of a human as he came around the corner. There was no trace of the strange creature she thought she'd seen in this rather normal looking businessman walking toward her. He saw her confused expression.

"You alright, miss?" he asked. British accent, normal clothes, human face. If this really was a monster, he did a good job of hiding it. Did he know she'd seen him?

"Fine, thanks," she replied, playing this one safe. "Just a bit tired, is all."

"D'you need someone to help you get home?" he asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

"No, no," she answered quickly. Maybe too quickly. "I'm quite alright, thanks. Have a nice night," she ended as she walked out of the alley, leaving the confused man behind. She walked a block before trying to calm herself down. "You're just seeing things, Molly. Ignore it and move on."

It was then that she saw a strange man looking down an alley just across the street. He was wearing a long brown coat, white converses, and had on a blue suit. In his hand, he held some kind of strange device that he was pointing down each alley.

She watched him scan two or three alleys, getting more and more frustrated as he went. She tilted her head as she watched him, and when he glanced at her, she quickly looked away. She continued walking down the street, hoping the strange man wouldn't follow her.

He did, and he caught up with her a moment or two later. "Excuse me, miss, but have you seen any alleys with unexplainable lights at the end? No, wait, that wasn't what I wanted to say. Well, it was, but not the way I wanted to say it. Erm..." he struggled to find the right words. She found his unusual behavior to be highly amusing.

"What's your job?" he asked, placing a nervous hand on the back of his neck. His odd behavior, while once making her wary, now seemed like something different altogether. He was looking for something or someone, but to say what or who he was looking for would make him look crazy. Thank God she was slowly learning from Sherlock, even if he hadn't meant to be teaching her anything.

"I'm a pathologist at St. Barts, just a few blocks that way," she pointed toward the direction of the hospital. "What are you looking for?"

"Honestly?" he asked. She nodded. "The entrance to a hideout of alien species passing through, living, or taking refuge in London. It's in an alley somewhere, but so far, I've not been able to find it."

"Dear, God, you're him," she breathed. "You're the Doctor." His eyes went wide at this statement, but he didn't deny it. "I heard Mycroft on the phone, talking with the Queen - at least, I think it was her - and she said something, and he replied with 'Good Lord, the Doctor's at it again.' So I did some research and you're..real," she finished her jumbled explanation with a statement of almost disbelief.

"Hold on, did you say you're the pathologist at St. Barts?" he asked, as if he'd not regestered the explanation. "You're Molly Hooper?" She nodded once again. "Well, Ms. Hooper, it's my honor. I've heard lots of good things about you from Mycroft. How'd you get into his office to hear that phone call?"

"Oh, he was actually in St. Barts, looking for Sherlock," she explained. "Never mind that, though. I know where the hideout is. At least, I think I do. Come on."

She led him back to the alley where she'd seen the shapeshifting man, now sure she'd actually seen it. He scanned it, the turned to her. "Molly Hooper, you're brilliant!" he exclaimed. She smiled brightly. She almost never heard that statement. "Come on," he urged, taking her hand and leading her in.

She was immediately hit by the warmth. She'd no idea how cold she'd been till she stepped inside this strange place that seemed to be much bigger than possible. It seemed to be bigger on the inside. It was a whole 'nother town smushed between a dingy apartment and a coffee shop.

There were so many different alien species wandering about that she didn't know where to look first. She followed the Doctor through the crowded streets of the hidden town. The alien species conversed in English, French, and their own native tongues, some of which involved clicks, buzzing, and growls.

"Bit much to take in," he remarked as he weaved through a group of small, childlike, blue skinned aliens walking in the opposite direction.

"Yeah, but this is... Wow!" she exclaimed as she looked up toward the ceiling and saw the artwork. "Who built this place?"

"Coalition of aliens who found themselves in London with no other place to go and a desire to not stay hidden all the time," he answered. "I was looking for this place because I'm hunting down a thief - well, kind of a thief - who has no idea what he has."

It was probably nothing, but a gut feeling told her to tell him. "Was he, like, a shapeshifter?"

"A Zygon, yeah," he answered. He stopped and turned to face her. "Did you see him?"

"Does he look like a businessman, holding a silver suitcase? Black hair, cut short, clean shaven, about 5'8"?" she described. He nodded quickly. "I caught him leaving about 5 minutes before I saw you."

"He'll be trying to leave the planet. We've got to stop him. Come on!" the Doctor shouted as he began to run back to the exit. Molly followed as closely as she could, but the street was crowded and she was constantly bumping into people while trying to keep her eyes on the rapidly moving figure.

She finally made it through the throng and followed him as he ran toward...Baker Street? Oh, if Sherlock saw her, she'd die from embarrassment trying to explain this. Luckily, he turned just before they hit the street, then stopped in front of a coffee shop. He walked in, and she wearily followed.

While she leaned against the doorframe, trying to catch her breath, he walked up to the desk and spoke with the owner in a strange language. He was an alien too? Was there anyone in London that wasn't?

Just as she caught her breath, the Doctor thanked the owner and they were off again. She was definitely not a runner, but she was doing an okay job of keeping up. They stopped again, this time on the curb. The Doctor tried to hail a taxi several times, but failed as they were all full or passed by.

Molly took the lead here, and whistled really loudly. The cab stopped by them and they got in. "The airport, fast as you can," the Doctor instructed, and the cabbie nodded before driving toward the airport.

Once they got there, and Molly paid the cabbie, they strode in at a fast walk. "Which terminal is he gonna be at?" she asked, looking for the man.

"He's not going for a terminal, he's got a ship parked in one of the hangars. I only need to find out where," he corrected, looking for a map. Molly closed her eyes and went over what she saw as he passed her, like Sherlock sometimes did.

Long black jacket, white suit beneath. Silver vest. His wallet was half out of his pocket, and she could see the gold engraving on it of... T. Greer. "Got it!" Molly quietly exclaimed as she walked toward the help desk. The Doctor followed. "You got something like a checkbook or something on you?" she asked.

"No, but I do have a key card on me from who-knows-where. Why?" She quickly took it from him and put on a good smile before walking up to the lady. "Excuse me, miss, but could you tell me which hangar Mr. Greer's plane is? I'm his secretary and his personal assistant," she placed a hand on the Doctor's arm, "forgot to give him his key card."

"Of course, the woman replied," looking something up on the computer. "Number 3, miss."

"Thanks," Molly replied as they walked toward hangar 3.

"That was brilliant," he complimented as they made it there. "Oi, Greer!" he called to the young man. The shapeshifter stiffened up as they got closer. He turned around and put on a nervous smile.

"Doctor!" he exclaimed too cheerfully. "W-what are you doing here?"

"You've got my suitcase," the Doctor said. Greer looked down and his eyes went wide. "I know you didn't know, and that's alright. I just need it back." The young man nervously handed him the case. "Thanks. Have a nice flight!"

"T-thank you, s-sir. You t-too," Greer replied, giving Molly a respectful nod before boarding the plane. The Doctor walked off with a big smile, and Molly followed, confused.

"I thought he was a thief?" she asked, keeping pace with the almost skipping Time Lord.

"Yes, but he's more a... rebel. There's currently a civil war, and he's on the side that would prefer to stay here and stay hidden. What's in this case if vital for that side winning, but I'm supposed to bring it to the leaders. It has a perception filter, making it unnoticable but not invisible."

"How'd I notice it, then?" Molly asked. "And how could you not know you were carrying a suitcase?"

"Well, the perception fiter works on all but the very observant, or people who are looking for the object the filter is supposed to be hiding. In other words, you're a very hard woman to fool, Ms. Hooper," the Doctor explained.

She followed him to the strange blue box, the TARDIS, it was called, and when he opened the door, she walked in right behind him. She gasped in wonder at the size of the roomy interior as opposed to the much smaller exterior.

She ran back outside, looked around the spaceship once, then walked back in. "It's bigger on the inside!" she exclaimed, finding no better words for the strange, seemingly paradoxical size difference that was much like the alley.

"Yep," the Doctor replied, popping the _p_. "Wanna come with?" He wasn't just offering to let her come when he took the suitcase to the leaders of the movement. He was offering to take her as his companion.

"Could it be a part time thing? 'Cause I've still got a job at St. Barts, and I'd like to keep that as well," she answered with a question, hoping he'd agree.

"Absolutely!" he smiled, flipping switches. She smiled back, thrilled beyond words. "Allons-y!"


End file.
